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PROLOGUE.
  
  

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PROLOGUE.

Our Author, Sirs, invites you here to Day,
To share the Entertainment of his Play;
The Feast, 'tis true, he has prepar'd with Care,
Yet, still he Fears you should dislike your Fare:
He knows the dangerous hazard he must run,
To please the vicious Taste of every one.
That's not his Aim, he has his utmost Wish,
If the discerning few approve the Dish.
Those that have Relish, he less fears than they,
Who having none, before-hand Damn the Play;
Such who are form'd so obstinately Dull,
They'll stop the Ears, and cry, The Man's a Fool.
Of these vain Fops, I think the Coast is clear,
And hope, we have none who will disdain to Hear:
You are his Judges; and he does submit,
To the Sentence given by the Judicious Pit.